


Common Indecency

by Edgelord (lostlikeme)



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlikeme/pseuds/Edgelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something precious growing between them, if Sesshoumaru will allow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Indecency

Sesshoumaru blinks lazily when Rin hovers above him clutching a bright yellow daisy-chain in her fingers, but otherwise he remains unfazed. The shut of his eyelids and the barest inclination of his chin solidifies his assent, and Rin places the flower crown atop his head with a giggle and a clap. Rin is much too old for this nonsense, but Sesshoumaru indulges her and allows her to weave a matching wreath for herself anyway.

Her voice is high with girlish excitement when she finishes. The smooth, womanly intonation of her normal speech is all but gone. She stands impatiently in front of Sesshoumaru and looks up at him from beneath thick lashes. “Rin is happy,” she announces, slipping into the childish habit of third-person speech. Rin rubs her arms before placing the wreath atop her head where it slips past her ears and hangs around her neck. 

She blinks several times in rapid succession and after ten years Sesshoumaru still has to stifle an amused scoff at her cluelessness. He settles for flickering his eyes disinterestedly to the sky when Rin kneels to inspect a ladybug, the fabric of her kimono bunching at her waist and riding back to expose more of the sun kissed skin at her thigh. The memory of a very similar moment from Rin’s childhood resurfaces in Sesshoumaru’s mind and without missing a beat he allows it to occur again, dragging his eyes up the length of Rin’s body before settling on her face. 

It is morally reprehensible, completely indecent, and fortunately Sesshoumaru has never pretended to be otherwise. Canting his head, he rolls his shoulder in the barest of shrugs. 

“Perhaps a longer kimono is in order,” Sesshoumaru suggests without cracking a smile. 

Rin abandons the insect as her attention shifts completely to Sesshoumaru, staring at him with a level of loyalty usually reserved for dogs, current company notwithstanding. “Really?” she asks guilelessly. 

Sesshoumaru removes mokomoko and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her smaller form down into his lap. When she shifts he can feel the soft press off her breasts through the layers of formal clothing, and he finds himself grateful that he’d chosen not to wear his armor this morning. Rin’s thighs are splayed impossibly wide around either side of his waist, tightening as she snuggles against Sesshoumaru and curls into his chest. 

“Not many have felt mokomoko and lived to tell the tale,” Sesshoumaru reminds her. 

Rin giggles and buries her face into its soft fur. “Then Rin thinks she is probably the luckiest girl in the world.” 

They lay in silence under the shade of the oversized oak tree for several minutes, content in listening to the breeze rustle the browning leaves. The birdsong soothes Sesshoumaru into a lull of not-quite-sleep, a state where his eyelids droop and his mind wanders but the rest of his senses remain alert and intact. He can still sense the presence of demons through the drowsy fog, weak pulses of youki scuttling around the edge of the forest but never quite breaching his territory. 

Though Rin is an adult she is still alarmingly small as far as Sesshoumaru is concerned, shorter than both the miko and the slayer and weak in all ways except for that of her will. Even the incessant urging from the two human women could not convince Rin to learn a defensive fighting style from Sesshoumaru’s half-breed sibling. Despite being a ward of the infamous demon Lord of the West, Rin is completely content in her helpless pacifism. It would be endearing if Sesshoumaru sported the same hero-complex as his half-brother, but he doesn’t and so it’s more inconvenient and occasionally worrisome instead. 

“Have you given more thought to defensive fighting?” 

Rin’s forehead shifts his shirt when she shakes her head against his chest. “Rin hasn’t Sesshoumaru-sama,” she mumbles, eyes peeking up at him. 

Something inside Sesshoumaru ignites when his gaze locks on her warm brown eyes. “New dangers will present themselves,” he tells her, keeping his voice smooth and steady. 

Rin pulls away and sits up in Sesshoumaru’s lap with calm confidence, and never before has she ever been more of his bastard princess of the West. The bow cinched at her waist only accentuates the subtle curve of her hips, and when he finally drags his eyes away he catches Rin quickly shifting her gaze. Sesshoumaru watches as the cogs turn in her brain and the wrong realization dawns on her. “The miko never spoke a word,” he assures her. “I can smell it.”

Rin lapses into a momentary silence before she finds her voice again. “Sango-chan and Kagome-chan--” she starts, but when Sesshoumaru opens his mouth to speak the words halt on her tongue. 

“Cannot always protect you,” Sesshoumaru finishes for her. 

The second silence is neither natural nor comfortable, but Sesshoumaru does not struggle with it. He watches as it shrouds around Rin and tries to consume her, hungry in its fear and empty sadness. Rin sets her jaw and keeps her chin held a little too high for her social status. Amused, Sesshoumaru memorizes the strands of her dark hair as he waits for her to speak.

Rin scrunches her brow in concentration, tapping her chin with her index finger thoughtfully. Her eyes widen. “There is no one greater than Sesshoumaru-sama,” she declares.

Sesshoumaru raises a brow in question. “You presume that this Sesshoumaru would leave your safety in the hands of incompetent weaklings?”

Rin smiles. “Never,” she pauses before continuing. “Sesshoumaru-sama always knows what’s best!”

Sesshoumaru can’t help but agree with her flawless logic, which is actually only his own flawless logic by proxy. He stares across the field as he mulls over the idea, considers the time required and the tediousness of teaching. When he looks down Rin is already smiling up at him. “Yes,” he tells her, and without further explanation he begins to stand, dislodging himself from Rin in the process. He gives her a few moments to compose herself before turning treading lightly backwards, leaving a good distance between the two of them. 

“Act as if I am an unexpected predator,” Sesshoumaru says before advancing upon her. 

After a pathetically useless defensive curl that leaves her vital spots embarrassingly exposed, Sesshoumaru settles on teaching Rin a few basic taijutsu, easy techniques that Sesshoumaru had learned when he was just a child. Much to Sesshoumaru’s relief Rin proves to be a quick study and an ever harder worker, and though most of these techniques will prove completely useless if Rin ever faces any real danger alone, it’s definitely better than nothing. 

The forest youkai still when Sesshoumaru charges forward a second time, eager to witness the result of his power. Rin remains frozen in position, knees still half bent, unafraid but visibly confused. Even with such tightly wound control over his movements Sesshoumaru is still too fast for her to track properly. Rin isn’t a dimwit by a longshot, but when recognition clicks into place and her reaction is to throw open her arms and invite Sesshoumaru into a warm embrace, he can’t help but wonder if maybe Inuyasha’s bad habits are rubbing off on her. 

Sesshoumaru stops short of her outstretched arms, choking down his own frustration. “You react to unexpected predators with affection?”

Rin cocks her head to the side, covering a smug smile with her hand. “Only the handsome ones, Sesshoumaru-sama,” she says. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshoumaru closes the distance between them, uncertain of whether or not she is truly trying to provoke him. Rin drops her arms to her sides as Sesshoumaru towers over her. “Sango-chan says Rin should pay more attention to finding a husband,” Rin says before glancing away. “For protection,” she adds hastily, as if only just remembering.

Motive finally ascertained, Sesshoumaru pins her, something that is almost difficult purely in its complex fragility. Each movement is carefully measured and premeditated until Sesshoumaru’s long fingers are winding around her wrists and pressing them firmly against the drying grass. “Constant surveillance and protection would not be necessary if you did not leave yourself open to attack.”

Sesshoumaru retracts his hands and stands, steadying his breathing and quieting his inner demon. Rin pouts, jutting out her bottom lip. “Rin likes constant protection!” she says, pushing herself up off the ground.

Sesshoumaru frowns, taking a step backward. “You seek out codependence?”

Rin is quiet for a mere moment. “I seek out my Lord,” she says, narrowing her eyes and bursting forward on light feet.

Surprise lasts mere milliseconds, long enough for Sesshoumaru to widen his eyes but not nearly long enough for Rin to land a blow. He dodges each advance without thinking, consciousness seldom present. Rather than focus on the repetition of combat Sesshoumaru's mind collects the small details: the careless crunch of leaves underfoot, a small dip in the dirt from where Rin pressed her bare heel into the earth, and the way her legs refuse to buckle under his intimidating gaze, breathless exhaustion and slipping stance be damned. 

Trees whisper as a cool Autumn breeze greets them, Rin bracing her weight on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. Sesshoumaru is a stone wall just a few yards away, chest rising and falling with imperceptible movement. Golden eyes shift when the wind whistles, and Rin collapses in on herself like a poorly constructed castle of cards. Sesshoumaru catches her as thoughtlessly as a backhanded compliment. Hands ensnared in silk, Rin’s fingers tighten at his shoulder when she coughs. “Rin remembers when Sesshoumaru-sama gave her this kimono,” she says with a weak smile.

The dress is sweat soaked and faded with age, and Sesshoumaru is mildly disgusted to find that she still owns the old orange and yellow patchworked thing. Even more appalling than its lack of cleanliness is its ill-fitting nature, the way it shows enough skin to have her mistaken for a common harlot. Sesshoumaru scans her body for injuries, leaning down to sniff the juncture between her shoulder and neck. Adrenaline spikes underneath Rin’s skin when Sesshoumaru shortens the distance between his face and her throat in order to scent her properly.

Teetering between convalescence and a surge of desire that sends Sesshoumaru’s instincts reeling, Rin shifts in his arms so that she can face him. Sesshoumaru predicts precedent and angles his jaw properly, their noses nearly touching as they share the same air. The daisy-chain slides from the top of Sesshoumaru’s head and falls to Rin’s chest where he eyes it begrudgingly. For the first time, Sesshoumaru breaks the silence first. “Do as you wish,” is all the instruction he offers her. 

Rin, of course, giggles and kisses him.


End file.
